Lost Lamb
by Ispell2
Summary: In the few moments before their first suicide mission, Commander Lana Shepard makes a startling confession to her two closest and strongest soldiers. The shock of learning that she has a 14 year old estranged son on Earth is bad enough, but Kaiden finds some parts of her story lacking - and what he finds out may make Shepard dead to him before the Normandy is EVER destroyed. ME 1-3
1. Chapter 1

Shepard had wondered why Kaiden said nothing about the curved scar on her stomach. She wasn't sure if he had figured it was just another one of her many, many battle scars; or if he simply had no idea what kind of scar it was. Had hadn't been brought up around many adult women, had he? But he wasn't a stupid man. What was he thinking? _Was_ he even thinking about it?

She had never been nervous about someone notcing that particular scar before. Then again, she never worried about how somone she'd slept with percieved her before. But this... _Everything_ would change. Kaiden would _hate_ her – not that she wouldn't deserve it.

Unbenknownst to Kaiden and Garrus, this suicidal misson of theirs wasn't the reason she was fidgeting with her hands. They certainly noticed her agitation, and _that_ made them both a bit uncomfortable. It wasn't like the fearless, warrior-like Lana Shepard to wring her wrists before something stupid and dangerous, _especially_ when it was something so important.

She had big plans for when they made it out of this. _If_ they made it out of this. And despite what he would think of her, she wanted Kaiden to at least _know_ about it. No one except the Yoni's knew the truth, and if she was going to die, then she wanted to die in a shuttle full of clear air.

"What's going on?"

She jolted out of her dazed state, as Kaiden's sudden, concerned voice punctured through the thick cloud of worry that she had lost her head in.

Kaiden looked at her with all the more nervousness. More unlike Shepard to be so easily startled.

It would have been easy to lie at that moment. To say that she was in the depths of thought, trying to figure out the best strategy.

"Oh. I... I was just -"

Lana caught herself before the lie, but only just as Garrus spoke up.

"Save it. What's wrong with you, Shepard? This is unlike you", the brusk, dual-toned voice said, furthering her from the path of dishonesty.

She leaned forward and took a breath in.

"Kaiden, do you remember the scar on my stomach from last night?", Shepard asked, avoiding eye contact as she held her hands below her chin.

Kaiden quickly glanced from Shepard to Garrus.

"Uh... Yeah. Are you- Are you sure this is the time or place to talk about...?", he asked her hesitantly.

"Yeah, I can just...", Garrus trailed off.

"What? Jump out of the shuttle into a ball of fire? No. Look, I trust you both more than anyone else in the galaxy. I'm planning on doing something very important if... _when_ we make it out of this, and I figure that if I don't make it, that I want at least _someone_ to know about this. Now, do you remember the scar on my stomach?", Lana interrupted.

Kaiden sat silently, confusion passing through his face and diluting into a straight face, pursed lips making Shepard's stomach drop just a little more with anxiety about what his reaction would be.

"Yeah", Kaiden said hesitantly.

"How do you think I got it?"

"I don't know, I guess... I guess I figured you'd gotten it from some kind of surgery?"

Shepard chuckled a little, nervously.

"You're not wrong", she answered.

"Look, when I was a kid, I didn't have anything or anyone. I ran around with a gang; I stole for my meals, and there are a lot of things I did that I'm not proud of. There are things that I let happen that I'm not proud of. _Heh_ , I wasn't always the model soldier you see today."

Another deep breath.

"When I was 17, I wound up in a bad situation. A common street thug like me, with no family to speak of, and no one to guide me on what I should have done at the time. Kaiden... I have a 14 year old son. I gave him up the second he was born, I _knew_ that I couldn't give him a good life; not _then_. I don't know much of anything about him, beyond his name is Daniel Yoni, and he and his... His family, live on Earth, somewhere in New York. I want to find him. I owe him an explanation for the life he's leading."

Kaiden took a minute to let it set in. Shepard wasn't really the type of woman he'd expected to be... Well, a mother. Or the kind of woman that would carry an unwanted child to term, considering her reputation for making the hard calls. So why did she do it?

He'd think about it later, when he was less dazed.

"Okay", Kaiden said with uncertainty leaking out of his voice, instinctively reaching for Shepard's hand.

She could feel how uncomfortable he was; yet the fact that he still wanted to be around her tamed the nervous energy in her stomach. She turned her gaze to Garrus, expecting... _Something_ besides uncomfortable shifting and awkward silence. And she wasn't disappointed.

"I'm in. If you need me, I'll go with you guys. I wanna see how this kid's shaped up to be - if he isn't in jail, that is", Garrus added.

Shepard shifted in her seat, crossing her arms with a smirk before looking back towards Kaiden.

Kaiden felt his chest go cold as he realized that this wasn't simply a death-bed confession; it was an invitation. He just wasn't _exactly_ sure what the invitation was to. But - he figured - if he was willing to follow her and Garrus into near-certain death, then he was damn sure willing to follow them to New York for a few days.

Provided they survived.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the fuck is this bullshit excuse for a haul doing in the pile Lahl?!", Vice shouted at his underling, a 16 year old girl, barely 5'3".

"Vice, if you would just-"

" ** _Don't_**. _**Give me**_. **_Excuses_**! I _hate_ it when you dumbasses give me some bullshit reason for _failing_ an easy job! So you'd better give it to me straight, or get the fuck out!"

Shepard hesitated in her response, and crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

"Jay insisted we go with _his_ plan, Vice!", Lana replied firmly but tentatively, "He told us the plan was that we would each pick a mark, follow them, and when the moment was right to get them alone and in an ally or some shit, then we would jump them - _alone_. And Jay, being the fuckwit that he is, picked a fucking _Turian_. Not only did I have to come and bail him out, practically scraping him off the alley wall before the Turian tourist had a chance to take a picture of him or get the cops; but me doing that made me lose _my_ mark! _That's_ why we've only got 43 bucks tonight, Vice!"

Vice's gaze swept across the 7 young adults in front of him, and the four that were in Lana's group tonight were all looking down - all except Jay - as if to say they agreed with Lana without letting Jay know.

" _Jay_ is this true?! What the fuck is wrong with you, Turians are fucking twice as big as you! Not to mention they barely carry _any_ cash, tourist or not!"

" _Hell NO_ it's not true! Lana's the one that picked the Turian mark! She told me I could take him, that he walked with a limp, that he was stuffed with cash! _I_ had to go bail _her_ out!", Jay said with spite in his voice.

Lana stepped towards Jay, but Wade grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She shot a glare back at her boyfriend, but complied.

Vice jumped down from the makeshift platform he had been looking down at his gangmembers on, and walked up to Jay. His stood barely a hairs-breadth away from him, and stared coldly down into his face.

"You lyin'? Because, if you are, I'm gonna give you a little present. But you know what? I get it - we all have bad days sometimes; so I'm going to give you this opportunity to come clean, and then if you do? I'll just make you find somewhere _else_ to sleep for a week, instead of sleeping _forever_ , how about that?", Vice said quietly, pulling a thin knife out of a belt loop.

Jay stood small, quivering, his slack-jaw and wide eyes clearly proving that he was filled with cowardice.

"I... I... He _looked_ like an easy tourist to shake down Vice, I swear th-"

Vice pushed Jay's shoulder _hard,_ sending the 18 year old boy falling to the concrete ground of the warehouse. He skittered backwards about a foot, never taking his eyes off Vice.

" _Leave_ , Jay, you stupid ass. And when you come back in a week, make sure you make up for the solid 100 in cash that you _could_ have gotten from today's tourist march."

Jay flipped himself over and foisted himself up off the cold floor, tripping a little as he ran for the metal sheet they had placed over a hole in the warehouse that they used as an entrance.

"Oh, and Jay?"

Jay stopped cold, and looked over his shoulder back at vice with a hand on the corrugated piece of metal that he'd already pulled back.

"If I find out that you went did something stupid during your little... _sabbatical_ from the 10th Street Reds - say, spilling your guts about us to another gang? I'd say you'd better not come the fuck back, because if you do, me and Lana'll make sure that you live through the first four hours of us peeling off your skin, bit by bit."

Jay couldn't scramble out of there fast enough.

Vice chuckled.

Lana's face was flushed.

She didn't kid herself, even then; she enjoyed the carnage that being a member of the Reds' wrought. Still, there was an ever-present throb deep in her gut that what she was doing, _helping_ Vice strike terror into the very souls of every street rat in New York, didn't feel right.

But she knew that if she ever said anything, that Vice would turn on her just like _that_.

The small crowd of their crew dissipated, some huddling around the fire, others grabbing a bottle of beer from the large party cooler they had stolen long ago, when Vice had taken over the Reds. Wade just stood next to Lana as she waited for Vice to stop smiling with that shark-like look in his eye and turn back to her to explain what was next for her.

She expected to become his second, now that Jay was out of the picture for awhile. And she knew what would be expected of herself if that was what Vice was planning for her.

Vice lit a cigarette and took a deep drag off of it before strolling slowly back over to Lana and giving her a different, toothier smile. She shifted her stance to put her shoulder's back, and smiled back with a thick lock of red hair hanging down over her left eye.

She stood still smiling as Vice pushed her hair behind her ear and held out the cigarette to her.

"Take a puff", he said in a congratulatory tone, still wearing his sharkish grin.

"No thanks. I don't smoke", Lana replied quietly, moving her face closer to his.

As he led her back to one of the many small rooms they had all decked up in scraps of cloth and busted mattresses, from her leaning grip on Vice's arm Lana took a look over her shoulder back to Wade, and gave him a serious, near apologetic look.

Wade nodded. He understood.

* * *

Three hours later, Lana awoke to a dimly lit room that smelled of cheap booze and cigarette butts She coughed a little, then remembered who she was laying next to and silently rolled off the mattress and dressed herself. One look at her leader in an alcohol and sex induced belabored slumber told her that she wouldn't have to worry about a round two any time soon, and she quietly slipped away back to her usual nighttime spot.

Wade was waiting there for her. She wanted to apologize, wanted to break down in tears and beg for forgiveness - but the mere fact that Wade was there proved to her that he was completely honest about understanding her predicament. About _their_ predicament. She crossed her arms and waited for Wade to say something. He held an old switchblade, something that Lana had pocketed for him, and sat looking at his reflecting in the blade for a moment; contemplating what to say. His hand dropped off his knee and he snapped his attention to Lana.

"Outside?", he asked her, pointing with his knife.

"Yeah", Lana replied, rubbing her shoulder.

They slipped out quietly into the humid, smoggy heat of the night in New York, pulling back the sheet-metal as silent as possible, Wade behind Lana. He guided her over to the fence in an alleyway between the warehouse they had access to and the warehouse the local homeless adults and veterans utilized, and she pressed her face to the cool metal chainlinks, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I feel... unclean", she admitted.

Wade raised an eyebrow.

"You're a runaway from a broken home in which you stabbed your scum-of-the-Earth stepmother because she was sexually abusing you; you now spend your days rolling with a bunch of adolescents in a bullshit xenophobic gang run by what is essentially a fat, glorified Guinea Pig in which you routinely steal and violently attack tourists and citizens - and _this_ is what makes you feel unclean?", he asked in an overly logical voice that pissed Lana off.

Lacking a good argument, Lana threw up her hands and turned towards him.

"Yes!"

Wade took a few steps closer and put his arm around her shoulder.

"I know. Ironically enough, this whole scheme makes me feel pretty fucked up too. But we have to do it. Isn't it our duty, as parents? To do fucked up shit to ensure our kid lives better than we do?", he pointed out in a softer, murmuring tone.

Lana sighed and leaned back against the fence with her forearms crossed over her tailbone.

"Yes. It was my idea, anyway. I just... I don't want Vice to think that it's _his_ baby. I want them to grow up _knowing_ that piece of shit isn't their daddy!"

"Even if we decide to keep it, that would put it in danger. You know how unpredictable and damn near _evil_ Vice is; the only way we can be sure that he won't drop you right then and there when you start showing is if he thinks it's his."

Lana's eyes filled with tears. He was right. Sometimes she really hated the way that Wade acted; so damn logical. But not at all cold. He was gentle with her, and she knew he'd do anything to protect her - and to protect his child.

"I know, I know... I...", she trailed off and tilted her head back, trying to see if it was possible for the fat tears lining the rim of her eyes to roll back into the tear ducts. It was not.

Wade could just barely see at night, even with the prescription lenses he'd lifted off some old doctor they'd found wandering the bad part of the city's clubs like a king across his peasants. Easiest way to collect from one of those hubris, horny old bastards was for one of the girls to go in after him, lure him out thinking he was going to get lucky with some hot young girl, and then she and couple of the others would jump him once they got to the alley. He could vaguely see a flicker of silver glinting off her face under the cool glow of the streetlights, and he instantly pulled her into an embrace. He struggled to hold back his own tears as he felt Lana's trembling arms reach around his gangly neck. He'd never known or seen Lana this upset about something - at least not since he'd picked her up from her house that final day - and maybe it was the hormones that had already begun to flood her bloodstream, or maybe it was that this was damn near the most difficult thing he'd ever know her to do in her young life, but by God that made it even more important to him. To the _both_ of them. Maybe even to all three of them.

"We're gonna get through this. I promise you Lal, we're gonna be okay. We just have to hold it together", Wade whispered into her hair and sniffed back the stinging sensation in his nose.

"Promise me you won't hate me."

"I _swear_ it."


End file.
